


Ravished

by ElizabethLeFay



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Draco Malfoy - Freeform, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Gryffindor, Harry Potter - Freeform, Hogwarts, Lemon, Light Dom/sub, Malfoy Manor, Ministry of Magic (Harry Potter), One Shot, Oral Sex, Post-War, Rough Sex, Sexual Tension, Slytherin, Smut, Spanking, dramione - Freeform, hermione granger - Freeform, tease
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-29
Updated: 2020-04-29
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:01:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,030
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23905837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElizabethLeFay/pseuds/ElizabethLeFay
Summary: Draco and Hermione connect at a work function, and their night turns into something quite unexpected.— — —“No bra? How naughty of you, Granger. Did you do that on purpose? Walk into my home looking like a goddess, hoping that I would fuck you?”
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Comments: 20
Kudos: 341
Collections: DH





	Ravished

Hermione Granger clipped a fallen curl back into its rightful place and touched up her lipstick before taking one last glance in the mirror. She had chosen a simple red silk dress with a loose-fitting, spaghetti strap top and a skirt that hugged her waist and thighs. It was modest enough, falling past her knees just slightly, but the slit above her left leg made it the smallest bit daring. Harry had told her to dress nicely, after all.

It was a work function and Harry had invited her, knowing she was curious about transferring to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Hermione wasn’t sure it was the department for her, but she intended to make a few contacts tonight, nonetheless. The entire M.L.E. staff would be there as well as a few rumored department heads.

Hermione adjusted the straps on her high heels and grabbed her clutch that had several female and survival necessities charmed to fit inside of it. She could never be too careful after what she experienced in the war, even if it had ended five years ago.

Grabbing a handful of Floo powder, Hermione stood in front of the fireplace in the living room of her small flat and spoke the destination before disappearing in a whoosh of flames.

Malfoy Manor was very different than Hermione remembered it. Not that she had ever seen this part of the house anyway, but even the aura in the large arrival room was bright and happy when she knew firsthand it was once very dark.

A small House-elf greeted her and turned to the wizard that appeared in the next fireplace to collect his cloak. Hermione had not bothered with one tonight. Following a hoard of fellow guests out of the room, they entered into a grand ballroom. She stopped in her tracks, glancing about the marble floor, wall of mirrors and gold trim, and the ceiling that was magnificently painted in Renaissance colors. It was its own little Palace of Versailles. It was the Malfoys, though, so she supposed she shouldn’t be surprised.

Hermione glanced around the room of dancing and conversing colleagues and looked desperately for Harry. She felt out of place, not knowing anyone and not technically working in the M.L.E. Feeling slightly intimidated, she willingly took the glass of champagne offered to her by another impeccably dressed House-elf.

“Miss Granger! I’m surprised to see you here.”

Hermione swallowed down her sip of champagne quickly, coughing slightly before shaking hands with the man that had suddenly appeared in front of her.

“Minister! How are you?”

“Fine, I’m just fine,” Kingsley grinned. “Are you a plus one tonight or job searching?”

Hermione returned his knowing smile. “Both, actually. Don’t tell my boss.”

“Ah, I knew magical creatures couldn’t occupy your brilliant mind for too long,” Kingsley complimented her with a tip of his head. “Any interest in another department?”

“Magical Cooperation, maybe,” Hermione said, taking another sip from her glass.

“Another great choice. Well, I must go show my gratitude to our dear host. Mrs. Malfoy sure knows how to throw a party, don’t you think?”

Hermione nodded her agreement, glancing about the room again. It was hard to imagine that she was attending a party thrown by Narcissa Malfoy in Malfoy Manor. Harry had adjusted to the Malfoy’s reemergence into the Wizarding world quite well, having put in a good word for Draco and his mother to begin with. She knew not everyone felt the same, though. Especially Ronald, who she knew Harry had dragged along tonight as well as his wife.

“If you’ll excuse me,” Kingsley muttered. “I believe one of my department heads is waving me over.”

“Not at all, Minister,” Hermione waved him off, ready for him to leave so she could down the rest of her champagne. “Good to see you.”

The moment he had passed her she threw back her glass and traded it for a new one. Walking further into the room, she spotted Harry speaking with their old professor, Horace Slughorn. Harry looked to be enjoying the company, but she could tell he was ready to escape. She approached them with a warm smile, greeting Slughorn with a handshake and Harry a kiss on the cheek.

“And how are you holding up, Miss Granger?” Slughorn boomed, his hand clutching a glass of what looked like brandy.

“Spectacular, thank you,” Hermione beamed, preparing herself to get what she came here for. “Actually, I’m delighted I found you. Harry invited me here because I’m curious about working in a different department, particularly Magical Law Enforcement and International Magical Cooperation. I’d be silly to think you didn’t know anyone I could talk to.”

“Well plenty, my dear! The Head of the MLE is here tonight, an old member of the Slugclub like you two, you know,” Slughorn said, waggling his eyebrows at Harry and Hermione. “Unfortunately, Iforn Travers is abroad on business, but I have connections there too if you want an interview. And don’t worry, your Head could not come tonight…but I’m sure you knew that or else you wouldn’t be here! Oh, there is your boss, Harry!” he turned to Hermione, professional aura intact. “Shall I introduce you?”

“I’d be delighted, sir.”

Slughorn promised to catch Harry later, to which Harry looked at her alarmed once his back was turned. He mouthed a ‘thank you’ to her before dashing off, probably to find Ginny and Ron.

Hermione sighed and followed her old professor through the crowd, throwing back quick sips of her champagne glass as she did so. She told herself she might as well get the work part over at the beginning of the night so she could drink later. She disposed of her glass as they approached Slughorn’s first contact for her of the night. She put on a smile and lifted her chin while the two older men exchanged greetings.

“Reginald, I have someone I’d like you to meet.”

Work functions…she hated them.

~

An hour later found Hermione in the arms of Ron, dancing about the ballroom. She had stuck by Slughorn’s side long enough to feel comfortable with the contacts she had gathered. She was exhausted from having to impress and talk for an hour straight and was slightly tipsy from swallowing down three champagne glasses before accepting Ron’s hand.

They talked easily, caught up about work. Hermione asked about George’s wellbeing and the joke shop. Ron said he was doing well but continued to stare at Hermione’s breasts and her painted red lips. Hermione pretended not to notice. Ever since he had broken up with his last girlfriend, he had taken interest in her once more. She didn’t have the energy to deal with that again.

“Thank you for the dance, Ron, but I need something stronger than champagne,” Hermione said in dismissal. She knew Ron would ask to accompany her to the bar, but luckily a colleague appeared and began to indulge him in conversation. Hermione quickly slipped away.

She found an empty seat at the end of the bar and ordered a martini, surprised to see a Muggle beverage on the menu. When she received it, she turned to face the ballroom and watched the dancers as she sipped. She spotted Narcissa Malfoy dancing with Kingsley, wearing a polite smile. Ginny must have convinced Harry to dance because she found them in the middle of the dance floor. She recognized a few colleagues of Ron and Harry’s that she had met over the years. A large crowd had formed around the table filled with appetizing food, Professor Slughorn at the front of the line. Hermione’s stomach growled and she realized it was probably stupid of her to be drinking on an empty stomach.

She sighed and threw back a large sip from her glass.

“Boring party, isn’t it?”

A man’s voice – a familiar man’s voice – came from her right and Hermione turned to its owner, an annoyed look already written across her face to hide her surprise. Her eyes still rolled instinctively.

“Is that a trick question? Trying to get me to discredit your mother’s hosting skills?” Hermione replied back coolly, gazing back out to the room again and taking a decent-sized sip from her glass.

“Not at all,” said Draco Malfoy before turning to the bartender. “Firewhiskey, please,” he requested.

“I must admit,” he continued to her dismay, “I watched you for some time before realizing it was actually you.”

Hermione wasn’t sure how to take that statement so turned back to him and replied with, “And what is that supposed to mean, Malfoy?”

Draco smirked, one that Hermione remembered from her youth as being condescending.

“Sleekeazy’s must have done you wonders.”

Hermione’s eyes narrowed and her neck flushed angrily. She turned to him with a stern glare.

“I’ll have you know this is my natural hair now, ferret,” she spat before adding, “I see you’re still using too much of that hair gel. I nearly gagged on the smell when I passed you in the Atrium last week.”

Draco laughed and Hermione recoiled slightly in surprise. She had never really heard Malfoy laugh before and she had sure as hell never caused it.

“There she is,” said Draco in a voice slightly above a whisper. “I knew this perfect, poised creature couldn’t be you.”

He tossed her another smirk before turning to collect his drink. Hermione took the opportunity to breathe.

“So, why are you here anyway?” asked Draco, taking a drink from his glass. “Trying to implore your House-elf rights on my boss?”

“Why would the M.L.E ever be involved with House-elves?” Hermione glanced at him heatedly but otherwise tried to keep her attention elsewhere.

She was burning her eyes into the back of Harry’s head, begging him to feel her staring so he could come rescue her.

“I wouldn’t put it past you to find a reason.”

Hermione took a deep breath through her nose and turned to him sternly. “I’m here because Harry invited me. I’m searching for a new job. Might want to get used to seeing me around, Malfoy.”

“I’d be lucky to, Granger.”

Hermione met his eyes, which were surprisingly serious. Was he…flirting with her?

She quickly looked away, swallowing down the rest of her martini. She licked off the dribble that had slid down her bottom lip, fully aware that he was still watching her.

“Careful, Malfoy, or I’ll mistake that as a compliment.”

Hermione looked at him with a smirk to rival his own before popping the olive into her mouth. She sucked around it, watching as Malfoy’s attention fell from her eyes to her lips, before pulling it off the cocktail pick to chew and swallow.

“Perhaps it was,” said Draco after a few moments, his voice slightly hoarse.

Interesting, Hermione hummed to herself.

He looked away, eyes traveling about the room and Hermione hid a smirk, taking the opportunity to look over his evening attire. His hair was perfect, not a strand out of place. It really didn’t seem like he used much gel at all, she begrudgingly admitted to herself. But she wondered what it would look like freshly clean and loose, falling onto his forehead.

To her surprise, he was wearing a Muggle suit. It was a pristine, dark navy blue with a white dress shirt and perfectly pressed tie which was loosened just enough to make her eyes linger on his neck. He wore brown dress shoes, too. He looked…impeccable and mouth-wateringly handsome. Hermione wondered why he was sitting here with her.

“You’re dressed in Muggle attire?”

Her question came out more as an observation.

“I’m an Auror but I am also in charge of the family business now.”

Hermione knew ‘now’ meant because his father was in Azkaban.

“Since I took over,” he continued, “I’ve included the family enterprise in Muggle relations. I came a few minutes late to the party from a meeting in Muggle London. No point in changing.”

Hermione was secretly glad he had not.

“Late to your own party? How you must have been missed,” Hermione chided. It was a pointless response and she was not sure why she was trying to continue the conversation.

“I’m sure I’ll be forgiven eventually,” Draco responded just as playfully.

They fell into a somewhat uncomfortable silence for a minute before Draco spoke up and asked if she wanted another drink.

“Yes, but what I really want is some of that food over there,” said Hermione. “That’s not a line I’m willing to wait in, though.”

“I know somewhere we can get endless drinks and food without a line,” said Draco.

“And where is that, Mr. Malfoy?” she mocked.

“Trust me, Miss Granger, and I’ll show you.”

Draco threw back the rest of his drink and stood, holding out his arm. Hermione eyed it warily, now debating with herself on what the hell she was doing. Was she really going to leave this party alone, which was what he was alluding to, with Draco Malfoy? She knew he was harmless and, according to Harry, a ‘pretty decent guy’ now. They hadn’t really spoken a word to each other since school, but he was never cruel to her when they passed each other at the Ministry. But at the same time, she was in his home where many bad things had happened, bad things that occurred to her, five years ago. Did she trust him? No, not really. But she did believe he would never hurt her or anyone else for that matter. Besides, he seemed to be harmlessly flirting with her, which she thought was maybe ok. They were all adults now and Draco was undeniably handsome. He even seemed to have a fair personality and humor now. Plus, she was tipsy with drink, probably the main source of their sudden politeness to each other. She admitted she was intrigued about the Slytherin standing in front of her, offering her his arm. It was what led her to take it.

“This better be good, Malfoy. I was so enjoying the party.”

“Liar,” Draco smirked, guiding her away from the bar and through the crowd.

Hermione couldn’t help but tense up as they entered a dimly lit corridor of Malfoy Manor. They were the only ones about, the chatter and music from the ballroom had died away.

“So, where are you taking me?” she asked, giving away how wary and curious she truly was.

“You’ll like it, don’t worry,” was all she got as a response.

They walked for another five long minutes, up a grand carpeted staircase and down a hallway of painted portraits of Malfoy ancestors. Draco stopped them in front of a double door with large, dark wood panels trimmed with a gold pattern.

“Ready?” he asked her with a raised brow.

“Get on with it, Malfoy, lest I begin to miss the party.”

Draco smirked and Hermione’s arm fell to her side when he moved to open the doors. Hermione’s lips parted in disbelief at what was behind them. It was a library, one to rival Hogwarts, even.

Hermione walked into the room, her hand coming up to stifle an excited giggle as she took in rows upon rows of books. It was two stories; she could see a winding staircase in both corners of the room. Grand windows stood at the opposite side of it, looking out to the back gardens. Comfy looking chairs, couches, and desks adorned the front of the room and bordered the balcony on the second story. Hermione wondered if there were window seats or plush chairs in the farthest and quietest corners of the room, hidden behind the shelves. It was always her favorite spots to read at Hogwarts or in Flourish and Blotts.

She turned back to Draco, beaming. “Are you kidding?”

“I told you that you would like it,” he said, smiling back.

“This is incredible,” Hermione gushed, taking in the gold trim and marble pillars of the vast room. “I had always heard your Manor had one of the largest collections in the Magical world, but this…”

“Exceeds expectations?” Draco finished with a smirk.

Hermione returned it as he stepped up closer to her. “Very much so.”

Hermione didn’t miss the glance Draco sent at her lips again.

Draco cleared his throat. “How about a glass of wine and a tour?”

“I would enjoy that very much,” Hermione replied, holding his gaze. She refused to let her gaze fall to his own lips, although she knew his tongue had just darted out to lick them. She was surprised at the feeling Draco Malfoy was causing her, but at the same time she really wasn’t.

She couldn’t deny that there had always been something between them. Even in school there had been undeniable tension, although it was of course due to her blood status and friendship with Harry. Their arguments in their youth always held a certain edge to it that Hermione had never been able to describe. She had always labeled it as hate, and it was, but perhaps a small part of it was always attraction. The tension between them now surely stemmed from that. Hermione couldn’t ignore that.

“Hinky!” Draco called, holding eye contact with Hermione.

A House-elf popped into existence beside them causing Hermione to jump slightly, but she did not dare break his gaze.

“Master called Hinky, sir?” the little elf squeaked.

“Two glasses of our best red, please,” Draco said.

The elf popped away at the command and Draco smirked, loosening his tie before undoing the top two buttons of his dress shirt. Hermione gave in, looking away from captivating grey eyes to pale exposed skin. She thought he looked too good, his outer coat open to expose the pants hanging on his slim hips and his tie and shirt too casually loose now to be considered appropriate presentation for a Malfoy. Hermione swallowed thickly.

“Most of the collection is similar if not identical to Hogwarts,” Draco began. “It’s organized to separate each genre and even to keep those from getting confused with our…other books.”

“You mean books on the Dark Arts?” Hermione asked, but sent him a small smile so he would know she meant no harm by the inquiry.

“Yes,” Draco returned her smile but said nothing more. “Those and records from the family: diaries and journals, accounting records, even books that were written by my ancestors and never published. It’s all in here.”

Just then Hinky popped back into the library to deliver their wine. Hermione took her glass and thanked the elf before it Disapparated again.

She swirled the dark liquid around in its glass experimentally before taking a sip. She moaned at the bitter yet sweet taste that flowed over her taste buds. Draco gripped his glass a little tighter.

“Elven?” questioned Hermione.

“Indeed,” replied Draco before taking a drink of his own.

He offered his arm to Hermione again, which she took without hesitation this time, before leading her down the first row of books.

“This is fiction, Magical and Muggle,” he explained.

Hermione noticed The Tales of Beedle the Bard on the shelf before she processed what he said. “Muggle?”

Draco nodded. “My mother has always enjoyed it,” was all he said.

Hermione wondered why his father would allow that, but she knew it was far from appropriate to ask.

“This one’s my favorite,” said Draco, pulling a book off of the shelf behind them and handing it to her.

“Shakespeare?” Hermione gaped at the front cover that read ‘Macbeth’.

“I think he’s incredible,” said Draco, putting the book back on the shelf for her and leading her down the row.

“So do I,” whispered Hermione, watching the man next to her with a new pair of eyes. Draco Malfoy truly was a changed man, she realized.

He took her to History next, then Astrology and Numerology, and then Ancient Runes. They discussed Ancient Runes the most, discovering it was their favorite subject at school.

“We went at each other’s throats in that class, didn’t we?” Hermione giggled, returning a tomb to its rightful place.

“Among others,” chuckled Draco.

Their wine glasses had been emptied and refilled already and she took a sip, letting Draco guide her towards the other end of the library. She noticed he purposefully passed them by the Dark Arts and Divination section and smiled to herself. Maybe he remembered her outburst at Trelawny third year?

She couldn’t help but be slightly disappointed, however, that he had shrugged off the Dark Arts section. She was intrigued by the collection after all, just as she had been intrigued about the restricted section in the library at Hogwarts. Any books interested her, even if she did not dare open some.

“Where are you taking me to now?” Hermione asked, blindly following him between winding rows of books.

“The section on my family, if you are interested.”

“Oh, yes!” Hermione smiled, realizing she had almost completely forgotten her cool and poised persona from earlier because of her excitement about the library. She wondered if it was because she was feeling more and more relaxed in Draco’s presence, too. Perhaps the wine had something to do with that.

They came across a row with ancient looking books, big and small. All were in immaculate condition, but by the look of some of them, it was no wonder the Malfoy family was one of the oldest in the Wizarding world.

“This one is rather interesting,” said Draco, charming a large book the size of one of Hagrid’s hands to float in front of them.

“What is it?” asked Hermione, trying to read the faded words on the cover.

“It’s the records of the Manor since it was built in the 16th century. Every renovation, every protection charm added throughout the years, it’s all here.”

“That’s rather incredible,” said Hermione, flipping through the large pages after Draco opened it up for her.

“It is, but I find the diaries twice as interesting.”

Draco stored the record away and took out a small leather-bound book from the shelf above.

“This was the journal my grandfather, Abraxas, kept in his youth,” explained Draco, holding it out to her.

Hermione glanced at it, interested, and took it hesitantly. “Wasn’t he…”

“One of Voldemort’s first followers? Yes,” said Draco, watching her closely. “He kept that throughout his years at Hogwarts. Documented Riddle’s every move in there. He was a loyal follower, but he comes off a bit wary in his entries, even suggests Riddle wasn’t a Pureblood.”

“That’s a fascinating thing to acquire,” commented Hermione. She handed the journal back to Draco and he took it, his fingers brushing hers.

“It was a fascinating read,” agreed Draco. “And turns out the old bastard was right. Riddle was a Half-blood all along, making us even bigger fools to believe in him.”

Hermione was taken aback slightly, never of course having spoken about Voldemort or the war with Draco Malfoy.

“I won’t deny you were a fool to follow him,” said Hermione, meeting his stare as she took his proffered arm again, “but you were brave to defy him, Draco.”

Draco halted his steps and turned to her. “You’ve never called me by my real name before.”

“And you’ve never called me by mine,” pointed out Hermione with a smirk.

“Well…Hermione…there’s a first time for everything.”

They both met each other’s in a playful smile before looking away. Draco led them over to a new shelf of books.

“Ah, these are the collections of diaries and unpublished works from the ladies of the Manor.”

Hermione scanned the shelves before setting down her wine glass and picking up a book that was showcased on its own stand. It was bound in red leather with gold trimmed pages. The cover read, “A Guide to a Malfoy Wife”.

Hermione blushed and almost put it down before she was interrupted by Draco’s playful chuckle.

“Good choice,” he chided, setting his wine glass down next to hers and moving to stand behind her to read from over her shoulder.

“What is it?” asked Hermione, trying to seem more intrigued than embarrassed.

“My great great-grandmother wrote it, I believe, as a guideline to future generations of Malfoy wives.”

“A guideline?” hummed Hermione, opening the book to a random page about how to be the perfect host.

“A woman must have certain qualities to be a Malfoy wife,” Draco began, his voice very near her ear.

Hermione could feel the warmth of him behind her, close enough to touch.

“And that’s what she wrote in here?” Hermione asked, flipping through the pages to distract herself from Draco’s close proximity. “How to hone the right qualities to make a successful wife of a Malfoy?”

“Yes,” Draco hummed. “It’s a guide, like the cover says, but she also gives advice.”

“Like what?” Hermione asked, breathless.

“Like how to dress,” said Draco, reaching around her to flip to the chapter that he was talking about. His forearm brushed Hermione’s bare shoulder and Hermione unconsciously leaned into the touch.

“How to make the perfect cup of tea,” he continued, reaching his other arm around her to close the book.

“How to deal with the family business.”

He took the book and reached above and around her, his hips bumping hers, to put the book back on its rightful stand.

“How to carry oneself around their husband in public.”

Draco released a warm breath against her neck, his hands brushing her waist as he returned his arms to his sides. Hermione’s eyes fluttered and her neck craned to the side, wondering if he would rest his lips there.

“How to please him in private.”

Hermione could almost hear the smirk in his husky voice, his breath fanning out over her ear where he had whispered the daring phrase. She wanted to press back against him, open her neck to his assault. But she wouldn’t. Not yet. He was testing her, and she knew it. He was just as curious about her as she was about him.

She knew that curiosity would be sated, too, either tonight, tipsy with drink, or in the future. Hermione had a feeling she could not describe, but one that assured her this would not be the last time they saw each other. There had always been something between them, and it had manifested tonight - not in hate or discrimination like in the past - but in a way neither had thought it ever would. The past was in the past and a brave and handsome man had replaced the boy Hermione always thought she knew. She could blame it on the wine, but even with a sound mind she knew his smooth talking and subtle glances and touches would have affected her.

Tonight was clearly different. There was a tension she could place easily but was having trouble believing it existed between them. He was trying to wind her up, and she realized she did not mind that. Indeed, she wanted him to wind her up, because that meant he was trying to for a reason. She wanted to trap him in his own game, to throw it back in his face and show him that he could not get what he wanted so easily. She was sure he was flirting with her, teasing her even. If he wanted to test her with warm breaths and roaming fingers, then he should expect the same from her.

With that thought in mind Hermione pulled away from him, the crook of her neck once warm from his breath now cold. She turned to him, making a show of smoothing out her dress, her hands gliding over her hips and thighs. Even the friction from her own touch had goosebumps rising on her skin. She realized with a jolt of shock that he had molded her into a ball of desire, just for him, in the last hour alone. How? Had this newfound attraction between them already turned so quickly to sexual tension? Had she ever really hated him at all? She didn’t know anymore. She only knew that suddenly, she wanted him, and she would be damned if he recognized that before he made the first move.

She looked up at Draco through her lashes, his eyes hooded from their sultry interaction but his smirk challenging. Maybe it would always be a competition between them, like it was in school.

“Is the tour going to continue or can I expect that food you promised now?” asked Hermione, one tan leg protruding from the slit in her dress to tap her foot in mock impatience.

“That’s all for now. You can visit the rest another time,” said Draco, leaving Hermione to wonder what he meant by ‘another time’.

Hermione took his arm again when he offered it, this time snaking her hand up to grasp onto the muscle of his bicep. She held her reaction back when she felt just how muscular his arm was. Draco Malfoy may be tall and slim, but he clearly was not scrawny.

Draco led them back towards the exit that they had come through.

“My mother always said no food around the books,” said Draco, “so I’m afraid we will have to dine in my room.”

It was exactly the answer Hermione had wanted from him. She turned a smile towards her guide.

“I quite agree with her, but only if you don’t mind me in your bedroom.”

“I have a feeling I don’t,” said Draco with a hint of sarcasm.

“It is a long walk to reach my bedroom on the other side of the manor. Care to Apparate?”

Hermione nodded her agreement and held onto his bicep tightly as she was suddenly pulled through time and space. When they landed on sure ground a moment later, Hermione waited for the dizziness to leave her before taking in the room.

It was as big as she expected, a large room with large windows and a large bed. She wasn’t surprised by the black furniture and the hints of silver and Slytherin green either.

Draco led her over to a sitting area situated in front of a calm fire. Besides a few sconces containing lit candles on the walls, the fire provided the most light in the room, giving it a dim and sultry feel. Hermione took the seat offered to her in front of the fire. She set her clutch down on the glass table in front of her as Draco took his own seat on the other side of it, stripping off his suit jacket.

“You’re completely predictable, Draco,” said Hermione, her lips turning up slightly at the corners.

“Am I?” chuckled Draco, leaning back to get comfortable in the plush black chair.

“Your bedroom, it’s how I imagined the Slytherin common room to look at school.”

“I’m afraid it wasn’t as nice as this.”

Hermione laughed and Draco shot her a smile before calling for Hinky again.

“What can Hinky do for Master, sir?” Hinky squeaked after popping into the room. The little elf’s eyes widened at the sight of Hermione, like she was surprised she was still here.

“Can you bring us a plate of all the refreshments from the party? And a glass of Ogden’s for me,” said Draco.

“A drink for the young miss?” squeaked the elf, addressing Hermione now.

“A martini,” she ordered, looking up at Draco, “with two olives, if you please, Hinky.”

Hermione sent Draco a smirk, wordlessly telling him that she had noticed his attention when she sucked the olive off the cocktail pick earlier at the party. Draco’s grey eyes flashed, momentarily distracted when Hermione’s tongue darted out to lick her lips.

“That’ll be all, Hinky. Thank you,” he said, crossing his ankle over his knee and watching Hermione with a keen eye.

At the sound of a crack, they were alone again.

“So, I saw Slughorn guiding you around earlier. He was introducing you to some pretty important people.”

Hermione raised an eyebrow at Draco’s conversation-starter, realizing his mistake immediately.

“I thought you said you watched me for a while before realizing it was me?”

Her grin was challenging but Draco just chuckled.

“It depends on how long you define ‘a while’ to be,” he said, stretching his arm over the back of his chair.

“So, what is your definition of it then?” Hermione interrogated, settling into her seat and crossing her legs. Just as she hoped, Draco ran his eyes over them.

“I don’t think I should tell you,” Draco responded.

“And why not?”

“Perhaps I’d like to keep it to myself.”

“I was able to connect with a few high placed men and women within the Ministry thanks to our old professor,” continued Hermione anyway. “Because of Slughorn I already have offers for interviews within your department and good connections in Magical Cooperation. Those are my top picks.”

Draco ran a hand across his jaw, observing her, his eyes roaming. He opened his mouth to speak but the sudden appearance of a martini glass, tumbler of Firewhiskey, and multiple food platters on the table interrupted him.

“You don’t seem like the Auror type,” he stated while Hermione picked up a handful of grapes.

“I wouldn’t be. I would prefer the Investigation Department. As I understand it, you lot over in the Auror Office still haven’t tracked down some deserters from the Final Battle.”

“Your intel would be correct,” said Draco, looking stressed at the subject.

Even Ron had admitted to her once that Draco worked hard, travelling often and without hesitation at any sign, clue, or word of former Death Eaters.

“I’ve worked with Harry and Ron a few times on undisclosed cases at home,” said Hermione, popping a grape in her mouth. “It beats working an office job. I’ve realized I wanted more.”

“You never struck me as the desk-job type, anyway,” hummed Draco. “I started out in Investigation. I’ll put in a good word for you - not that you need it.”

Hermione smiled genuinely at him. “Thank you.”

They fell into silence for a minute, snacking on the refreshments that Hinky had sent to them.

“And Magical Cooperation? What would you want to do there?” asked Draco once he and Hermione had each had a sandwich.

“The International Magical Office of Law division,” replied Hermione, stealing a sweet looking biscuit from a plate. “If that works out, I’ve even thought about taking classes through a Muggle law school.”

“You’d be good at that,” said Draco, shifting forward to rest his elbows on his knees.

“Maybe, although I feel myself leaning towards your department instead. I have this itch to be in on the action again."

"That doesn't surprise me," smirked Draco, calculating her with a steady gaze.

"And why not?" asked Hermione, spreading cheese on a cracker.

"You've always been a little reckless, Granger. Always directly involved in the action, putting yourself at risk."

"Reckless?" Hermione questioned with a raised brow. She picked up her martini and took a drink, waiting for Draco's response.

"Do you deny it?"

Hermione thought for a moment, taking another sip. "No."

Draco snorted and sat back in his chair, throwing back his Firewhiskey.

"Some might say I'm being reckless right now," said Hermione, crossing her legs.

"And why is that?"

Draco sat forward, disposing his tumbler on the table between them. He rested his elbows on his knees and folded his hands in front of him, watching her with a challenge sparkling in his eyes.

"I'm in Draco Malfoy's bedroom," said Hermione, looking around the room, "sharing drinks with him."

"Cheers to that," said Draco, flashing her a lopsided smile.

Hermione giggled and, seeing as Draco's drink was gone, lifted her glass to him and took a sip. Her head was feeling lighter, her limbs slightly numb. She was feeling confident and tipsy, which was either a good thing or a bad thing.

"That's all it has to be," continued Draco. "Just friends enjoying a drink."

He sounded like he was testing the waters, challenging her own feelings. Hermione downed the rest of her drink, cringing slightly, and pulled out the olives from her glass.

"Is that what you want? To be friends?"

Hermione waited for his answer, but he was distracted when she purposefully popped the cocktail pick into her mouth, sucking it off with a show of hollowed cheeks and puckered lips.

Draco swallowed thickly, shifting in his seat.

Hermione pulled the second olive she had requested off with her teeth, disposing her glass on the table as she pulled her cheeks around it, watching Draco at the same time. He loosened his tie, his eyes darkening further when Hermione uncrossed her legs and stood, moving towards the fireplace.

“We can be friends, Draco, if you want,” she cooed over her shoulder. He looked incredibly sexy, his elbows on his knees as he rolled up his sleeves, watching her with a heated gaze. She did not particularly want to be friends with him right now.

She faced the warm flames, looking over the picture frames on the mantle and turning away from their heated interaction. If he was going to tease her, she was going to give it right back to him. She glanced over the photographs decorating the shelf. It was strange, to be looking at something so personal of his. One frame captured a family picture in the gardens. Lucius Malfoy had his arm around his wife’s waist, even sending a small smile at the camera. Narcissa was grinning broadly, laughing down at the young blond toddler clutching at her leg. Draco tugged with small hands at his mother’s robes and Lucius’s hand came down to ruffle his hair. He looked no older than three. They seemed like a normal, happy family. There were other pictures of Draco and his parents, he and his father at the Quidditch World Cup, and he and his mother curled up in a window seat of the Malfoy library, reading. Hermione wondered if Lucius had taken the picture.

There were pictures of Draco and his friends too. A first-year Draco, Crabbe and Goyle in front of the Hogwarts Express, waving ecstatically to the camera. Draco and Pansy as young children, playing with small Quidditch figurines on the floor. There was a picture of Draco with who Hermione recognized to be Theodore Nott and Blaise Zabini in front of the Colosseum in Rome. It was a still picture, as if they had asked a Muggle to take it for them and it looked like the moment had been captured more recently.

“You went to Rome?” asked Hermione, pretending as if she had forgotten all about what she had just said to him a minute before.

“I did,” said Draco from his chair. “Last year with some mates. Nott is a historian now, huge on the Romans. Zabini and I surprised him with the trip for his birthday.”

Hermione turned to him with a smile. “Sounds fun. I’ve always wanted to go to Italy.”

“I’m going next month. Blaise has a home in the countryside of Verona. He’ll be there for the holidays, taking care of family business.”

“I’m jealous,” sighed Hermione before turning back to the fire. She watched the flames stretch towards the chimney, the logs burn and crackle and break off, throwing sparks.

She was very aware of the man sitting behind her, watching her with curious eyes. She knew this wasn’t what he expected, that she wasn’t what he expected. Hermione could say the same for him. She felt his eyes on her, those grey eyes that she had tried not to get lost in several times tonight.

"I can't remember the last time I did something...exciting like that," said Hermione, turning around.

Draco was sitting forward again, his hands folded and propping up his chin as he watched her.

"You seem like someone who likes a thrill," assessed Draco, licking his lips. His eyes were shamelessly running up and down her legs and Hermione reveled in it.

"I'm surprisingly boring," smirked Hermione taking two steps over to the coffee table and popping a chocolate truffle in her mouth. She purposefully moaned at the taste, licking a bit of chocolate off her finger teasingly.

Draco's hands dropped to his knees, a puff of air escaping his parted lips. "I doubt that," he said intensely.

"I rarely do anything...thrilling," said Hermione, tucking an escaped curl behind her ear. She felt the pins holding up her hair falling and realized she had forgotten to apply a sticking charm.

"Would you mind if I used your loo?" Hermione asked.

Draco shook his head. "Of course not. It’s that door on the right."

Hermione followed his pointed finger, Draco watching the sway of her hips as she walked away.

She closed the door behind her, walking into a grand bathroom decorated with black marble and white towels. Hermione passed a grand tub and shower to find the toilet, relieved herself and returned to a sparkling clean sink to wash her hands. Feeling tipsy from the last martini, she was not feeling up to attempting to fix her hair, so she pulled the pins out of her failed hairstyle. After vanishing them with wandless magic, Hermione ran her fingers through her hair and fluffed it before letting it fall freely down her back. She checked it in the mirror, as well as her makeup, before leaving the bathroom.

She closed the door behind her, noticing Draco was no longer in the sitting area. Hermione was just about to call for him when she heard a sound from an open door across the bedroom. She made her way towards it, figuring Draco was inside. He was, hanging up his coat in what was clearly his closet.

“Do you really own these many clothes?” Hermione chided, leaning against the door frame.  
Draco turned to her, eying her long curls before removing his tie.

“Unfortunately, my mother still does my shopping,” he joked. Hermione laughed, watching him fold his tie neatly.

“Unfortunate indeed.”

Draco stowed his tie away and looked back at her, grey eyes roaming across her dress and the curves the silk material was hugging.

“And who does your shopping, Granger?” he asked, smirking.

“How do you know I don’t?” Hermione returned.

“Because you seem to hate parties,” Draco pointed out. “Why would you waste your time shopping for them?”

Hermione rolled her eyes, giving in. “For parties it’s Ginny and my mum, usually,” she answered. “And if I’m especially unfortunate, both of them at the same time.”

“Unfortunate indeed,” Draco responded, quoting her from moment ago.

Hermione glanced around his closet, vast and perfectly organized. He had a large collection of Muggle and Wizard attire which Hermione secretly wished she could see him in. Draco Malfoy in a Muggle sweatshirt and... were those jeans? Hermione gaped at them, folded neatly on a shelf next to a variety of belts. Who had this man in front of her become? She was intrigued.

“Your mother shops Muggle clothes for you as well?” asked Hermione, referring to the items in his closet and the suit he was wearing tonight.

“Not in the Muggle world, no. I got into that with the help of my aunt. Because of the direction I’ve taken my business, I shop for myself in that area.”

Hermione assumed he was speaking of Andromeda, Teddy Lupin’s grandmother and Narcissa Malfoy’s sister, but she said nothing in case his family was a touchy subject. She heard from Harry that Draco and his mother were quite close with Andromeda now and that Teddy was very fond of him.

“You’ve become something I never expected,” Hermione blurted without much thought. Her cheeks blushed and she looked away from him.

Draco chuckled and stalked towards her.

“As have you,” he said.

Hermione glanced back up at him. “Me? I’ve always been this way; you just never bothered to speak to me.”

Draco snorted. “Tell me, would Hermione Granger have come up to my bedroom five years ago?”

Hermione stepped into him, her shoes almost touching the tips of his own.

“Things were different then,” she said, looking into his eyes sincerely.

Draco shuffled closer. The toes of his shoes bumped hers. “Yes, they were,” he whispered.

Then he was leaning down and moving forward. Hermione froze halfway to meet him, both of their breath warm and coming out in harsh, nervous puffs. They stalled for a moment, just breathing and staring, wondering who would make the first move, who would decide to cross that line, who would decide to leave the past in the past for one night. It was Draco that closed the gap and their lips met, soft and shy for a moment, not moving. Hermione parted her lips for him, inhaling a shuttered breath before pushing back into him. Their lips met over and over again for the first time ever, moving together perfectly.

Draco’s hands came up to grip her waist, pulling her closer. Hermione tentatively moved her own hands up to his shoulders, waiting for his next move. He made it, pushing her against the wall, deepening the kiss. Their tongues battled, gentle and hesitant, and then all at once fierce and caressing. Draco pushed her into the wall, drawing nearer, their bodies pressed against one another, touching and feeling through fabric. Hermione was glad she had let her hair down when Draco tangled his long fingers into her curls, using them to pull her closer.

Then he was moving them towards the bed, walking blindly in tangled lips and hair. Hermione’s behind knocked into a soft mattress first, and Draco pressed her into its comfort, leaning into her as he conquered her mouth. She breathed heavily through her nose to even be able to breathe, but the last thing she wanted to do is pull apart from the kiss.

They kissed for too long, so long that Hermione knew her lips would be swollen afterward. At some point, Draco had lifted her up onto his bed, shoving her knees apart to move between them. His hands alternated between rubbing her thighs or snaking up her back and into her hair and she wondered if he was doing so on purpose, wanting her to make the first move to take this a step further. For the first time tonight, she didn’t care. She pulled away from the kiss, holding Draco behind the neck. His lips were red and wet from their kisses, his hair disheveled and soft, falling onto his forehead just like she had always wanted to see it. He looked at her with eyes such a piercing, lust-filled gray that Hermione actually shivered.

He attacked her neck so suddenly that Hermione threw a hand behind her to catch herself from falling back, her other hand threading between soft blonde hair.

“Draco,” she moaned, gasping when he found a spot between her jaw and ear. “Draco, I want you.”

He pulled up smirking, and Hermione had to stop herself from rolling her eyes.

“That’s what I’ve been waiting to hear all night,” he said, picking her up behind the thighs and tossing her towards the middle of the bed. He kicked off his shoes and reached for the buckles of hers.

“Yes, yes, you win Malfoy.”

Her shoes were tossed to the floor and Draco climbed over the edge of the bed, laying himself over her except for an elbow supporting his weight.

“Yes, I absolutely have,” he said, looking over the witch on his bed. Her curls were wild, dress shifting and wrinkled, lipstick worn off to show her naturally pink lips. He leaned down to kiss her, and it was their softest one yet.

Hermione was on fire, her head swimming with thoughts and feelings for the man leaning above her. She did not want this to ever end, and she tried not to be realistic with herself, knowing that when they sobered up, they may feel differently about this situation. But they were both adults. They could handle it.

She took charge, pushing Draco onto his back and throwing a leg over his waist to straddle him. Her dress, tight around her legs, did not really allow her to be in this position so she pulled it up her thighs. Draco licked his lips at the view, catching a glimpse of dark colored knickers before she was reaching for his lips again. They met in a sultry dance, his hands tentatively coming up to squeeze her bum. They both moaned, and Draco relished in the way that his hands were clearly too small to accommodate the taut flesh of her behind. His cock jumped at the thought, ready to see this mesmerizing, stunning witch naked beneath him. To his delight, Hermione’s kisses moved to explore his own neck, her small hands releasing his hair to begin unbuttoning his shirt.

Hermione had gooseflesh pebbling her skin. Every time her fingers released a button, brushing across smooth skin or soft hair on his chest, her heart beat faster. She released the last button and left a newly discovered spot behind his ear to glimpse his upper body. She shamelessly watched as she separated his shirt, tossing the fabric off his chest to fall to his sides. He was all smooth skin and taut muscles, lean but not thin, defined but not ripped.

“God,” she gasped without realizing. Her eyes moved across him, relishing in him and memorizing him, before meeting his eyes. His were so hard with lust she thought he might vanish their clothes and fuck her silly right there.

She broke contact before she gave in, not hesitating to attach her lips back to his neck. One of her hands rose to close around his neck gently, pushing his head into the mattress so that she could get better access.

Draco moaned as she held him there, sucking a bruise into his Adam’s apple.

“I should’ve known Hermione Granger would be bossy in bed,” he commented, letting her do as she pleased with him.

Hermione trailed her kisses up to his chin, meeting his gaze. “Actually, I quite like it the other way around.”

Draco’s features changed from chiding to hungry in a second, causing Hermione to snicker as she began kissing him again. He returned it fiercely, horny beyond belief, and there was no mistaking the hardness beneath her as she straddled him. She gave an experimental grind of her hips, wanting to feel something. Draco’s hands were holding her hips, feeling the material of her dress rise further with her movements. They both groaned at the feeling and Hermione did not stop as she plunged her tongue into his mouth, enjoying the pleasure of taking control…at least for now.

She would enjoy it while he let her though, while he was putty in her hands. Her lips started wandering again, down his neck and broad shoulders to his collarbone, her fingers brushing through the small patch of darker hair at his chest. The hairs were few and thin, but it suited him, she thought. She enjoyed the firmness of his pecks, teasingly brushing her lips over his nipples as her fingers curled around the waistband of his pants. His breath hitched, to her delight, lips skimming over his hard abdomen to follow a trail of hair to his belt. She did not waste any time undoing his belt, her hand tentatively cupping him through his trousers. Draco groaned, throwing his head back into the mattress as she palmed him. She quickly undid his button and zipper next, curling her fingers into the waistband of his pants and underwear to tug them down his thighs. His hips arched off the bed, allowing her to undress him.

Hermione froze as she was faced with his arousal. She had to swallow thickly at the perfectness of him. Long and thick enough that he would not hurt her, pale and dripping at the swollen red head of his cock. She gripped him, mesmerized, her fingers not long enough to meet around his girth. His balls were pulled tight against the bottom of her fist and she cupped them too, glancing up when Draco gasped above her. He was watching her in such awe and perhaps even a little bit of hesitancy that she returned with the same intensity. Their situation became so real in that moment, and despite the wave of awkwardness that began to spread over them, Hermione was determined not to let it affect them. She lowered her mouth to his head, red tongue darting out to lick the moisture from the tip.

Draco was transfixed, harder than he ever had been in his life, as he watched her mouth sink down onto him, sucking and licking, and Merlin she was good at this. He was surprised by the spark of jealousy that ran through him when he wondered why she was so good at this. Hermione’s curls fell over his lap as she took him into her mouth over and over again, trying to go down on him completely but unable to take the last inch or two of him. She felt too self-conscious about this situation, so new and unexpected, that she did not want to trigger her gag reflex, although, she was sure he would not mind. As she pulled up, sucking on the tip with a pop, Draco pulled away from her.

“No, fuck. I need to see you,” he was gasping, pushing her off of his lap gently and back towards the edge of the bed. “Always wanted to see this.”

She was not sure what that meant, but Hermione did not question it as she slid off the bed, Draco standing to his feet in front of her. He turned her around suddenly, large hands holding her waist and pulling her back against him. She could feel his hardness pressing into her lower back and Merlin was he that tall without her heels on? His lips fell onto the skin of her shoulder and Hermione bent her neck to the side, allowing him free range. His hands wandered her hips, waist, belly and up to her breasts, cupping them in strong hands and kneading the soft flesh there.

He could feel her through the silk fabric of her thin dress, nipples straining into his palms, her back arching against his torso to press her breasts into his greedy hands.

“No bra? How naughty of you, Granger. Did you do that on purpose? Walk into my home looking like a goddess, hoping that I would fuck you?”

She had never took the time to appreciate the way Draco said her last name. It made her knees weak. Fuck, he knew exactly what to say to make her putty in his arms. She moaned from his words; her thoughts were so muddled that _perhaps she had dressed like this for him?_ She didn’t know or could not remember as she pressed her bum into him, one hand snaking up to rest on the back of his neck and press his lips into her shoulder. His thumbs ran over her nipples, straining hard against the fabric and he knew this was the hottest he had ever been for a woman.

Abruptly, he turned them around and shoved her into the bed where she willingly bent at the hips. He moved in behind her, his cock pointing at her bum that was presented in the air for him and he longed to just pull her dress over her waist and slide into what he knew was a wet pussy. He could smell her arousal, sweet and tangy and _fuck_ he was hard. Her dress was barely covering her bum now, having ridden up so high that he could stare and stare at her tanned thighs and long legs. He raised his hand, brushing fingers over the back of them only to travel up her bum and exposed back where the zipper to her dress lay.

Gulping, suddenly nervous that he was about to see Hermione Granger naked, he pulled the zipper down slowly. Most of her back was exposed from the dress, but he was transfixed as her lower back came into view, dotted with a few freckles and two dimples towards the bottom. Hermione was squirming, ticklish in that area as his fingers ran over the dip in her back. Lacy black knickers came into view and Draco swallowed thickly as they disappeared between two luscious cheeks. The zipper stopped just below her bum, her dress folding open to reveal the soft skin and curves underneath. Draco was breathing heavily as he leaned over her, earning a gasp from Hermione as his cock fell between the crack of her arse. The shirt that was still hanging off of him tickled her sides as she felt him move closer to her until his breath was lightly brushing her hair.

“I could fuck you like this, bent over my bed with our clothes halfway on. Would you like that?”

She did not know how to respond, melting as his hands pinned her wrists into the bed. She could feel his hardness against her bum and a part of her wanted him to rip off her knickers and slide in. But no, she was too wet, too constrained and she wanted him naked. She replied by pushing her bum against him and moaning.

“Answer me. Would you like that?” his voice commanded a reply and Hermione knew immediately that she would let him boss her around in bed any time.

“No,” she whispered, unable to really move with him on top of her. She squirmed, longing to turn over and rip off her dress and his clothes the rest of the way.

“Why?”

“Want to see you,” she gasped, feeling herself grow even wetter. Draco hummed and she felt him shift away.

She was yanked to her feet so quickly that she stumbled. Draco was moving behind her again, sliding the straps off of her shoulders. Her dress fell to the ground and she reveled in the sharp intake of air that came from Draco’s lips. She turned to face him, baring her breasts to him quite shamelessly, although she was feeling somewhat shy. His eyes were drawn to them, the perfect size for her frame, adding a soft curve to her upper body that made his mouth water. Her nipples stood at attention as she pushed his shirt off his shoulders, stepping into him to press their skin together for the first time.

Hermione’s mind blanked at the wonderful feeling, only experiencing pleasure as their skin touched, practically on fire. Draco was kissing her fiercely again, stepping out of his trousers to rid himself of the restraint.

“On your knees,” he demanded and watched enchanted as Hermione dropped immediately, submissively.

She knew what they both wanted. Her hand came back up to his length, gripping the base of him as her tongue drew a line up the underside of his cock. She glanced up and met his gray eyes and _oh, this is what he meant by wanting to see her._ Holding his gaze through her lashes, she took him into her mouth, letting the firmness of him slide past the wetness of her tongue over and over again. She breathed through her nose when she went down farther, concentrating on keeping her throat calm.

Draco wondered if she was hesitating to go further on purpose, but he did not want to push her. Some women did get embarrassed about how sensitive their gag reflex was, even though Draco longed to watch Hermione choke on his cock. He gave an experimental thrust of his hips, so light that he did not really move, but Hermione glanced up at him, brown eyes wide. He ran a hand through her hair comfortingly as she rose to swirl her tongue around his tip. He groaned, fisting her curls unconsciously. Hermione moaned at the feel of it, hollowing out her cheeks around him. Draco wondered how dirty she was, what other surprising things she liked.

His fingers danced to the back of her hair, gripping her hair there and pushing her head down onto him. He released the pressure, but this time Hermione took him almost completely, gagging around his cock but not moving as she held him there. Spit dribbled out the sides of her mouth and then down his cock as she moved back to the tip.

“Merlin, Granger. You’re so fucking hot,” Draco moaned at her sudden boldness.

That only seemed to spur Hermione on more, gaining the confidence to deepthroat him with a new fervor that had his cock wet with her spit. It dripped down his balls and into the hair of his thighs. Hermione did not care that she was making a mess; it was getting her so wet that she thought she might explode. A hand started wandering down her torso, but she stopped herself, wanting Draco to be the first one to touch her there. Instead she brought it to cup his balls, rolling them in her palms until Draco was groaning above her, his voice husky and deep.

She had gotten his cock wet enough that her hand pumped easily around him as she took him out of her mouth. She lowered herself to her heals, stroking his cock while watching him openly. His eyes were squeezed shut, his jaw clenched, and chin jutted out in pleasure. Hermione could not believe she was the one on her knees, delivering such pleasure to Draco Malfoy. He was so beautiful like this, so free and open to her, without shame or hesitancy despite their rocky past.

She took pleasure in the way his eyes opened wide to her, enthralled as she took one of his balls into her wet mouth, pumping his cock feverishly.

“Fuck,” Draco whispered into the silence of the room, combing his fingers through her hair. “You are something else, Granger.”

Hermione was happy to have surprised him, enjoying the feeling of bringing him pleasure in two different ways down there. His finger caught her chin when she aimed to switch to give attention back to his cock.

“On the bed before I come down your throat.”

She did not hesitate, to Draco’s pleasure, as she stood on wobbly feet and climbed onto the soft bed. She squealed as Draco climbed up behind her, tossing her up to the headboard. She landed on her back, her head sinking into feathered pillows.

He was going to fuck her now, she hoped, but realized with a blush that that was not his intention yet. Draco laid between her thighs, staring up at her with a smirk as he fingered the lace of her knickers. He could smell her clearly now, her arousal so sweet that he did not waste time in burying his face between her thighs. Hermione gasped, propelling herself up on her elbows to watch the sultry show of him. Draco was breathing her in between the layer of lace, and it was one of the hottest things she had ever experienced. She cried out when she felt his tongue probe through the material, and she knew he was teasing her. If it kept drawing out such wonderous cries from her, however, Draco had no intention of stopping. His kisses trailed to her thighs, pushing them roughly apart as he nipped at the sensitive skin.

“Draco, please,” Hermione begged, breathless. Draco glanced up at her and she moaned at the sight of him between her legs. “Just fuck me,” she breathed.

“Not yet,” said Draco firmly. “First, I’m going to taste your pussy, Granger, until you’re coming in my mouth. Then I’ll fuck you so hard that you come twice more around my cock.”

 _Sweet Morgana_ she had never heard something so naughty, so hot or arousing in her entire life. She dropped back to the pillows, completely overwhelmed with emotion and desire. Draco smirked, tugging at the waistband of her lovely knickers, not caring when they ripped slightly as he yanked them off her legs. He grabbed her ankles, heart beating fast as he brought them near his shoulders, her knees bending and thighs spreading and fuck.

“Shite, Hermione. You’re beautiful,” Draco breathed, catching her gaze as her lips trembled in need. “So wet for me,” he hummed, his fingers spreading open the lips of her pussy.

He could not wait any longer, and truthfully, neither could Hermione. She had forgotten all about skipping the foreplay and jumping straight to fucking when he had ripped off her knickers. Now, his hot breath across her arousal was driving her insane, and his dirty mouth was coaxing reactions from her mind and body that she had never experienced before. She had never wanted anyone more in her life than she wanted Draco Malfoy.

She cried out with a loud, long moan when Draco’s tongue drew a long stipe up her slit, greedily collecting the juices that were there. Her fingers rose to tangle in his hair, gasping as his lips closed around her clit and sucked.

“Oh, Draco,” she cried. “Gods, I can’t believe you’re doing this to me,” she breathed, collapsing back into the pillows as Draco had his way with her.

Her back arched under him as he held her trembling thighs in the air away from his shoulders, opening her up to him like a blooming flower. She tasted like heaven, sweet and velvety and her juices seemed to be ever flowing.

“Hold your thighs just like I am,” instructed Draco suddenly. “If you move, you’ll be punished.”

Hermione’s breath hitched in her throat as her mind wandered at the possibilities of _how_ he could punish her. She did as she was told, hugging the back of her knees near her chest and opening herself up even more to him. Her legs trembled and nearly fell to the bed when a long finger plunged into her tight heat, curling to brush against a spot inside of her that past lovers rarely found. In a beckoning motion, Draco curled his finger to press against her there every time. Hermione could already feel her orgasm building, and she was nearly thrown over the edge when Draco wrapped an arm around her thigh, pulling back her clit and sucking it into his mouth.

“Fuck!” moaned Hermione, causing Draco to groan into the wetness of her.

He fingered her with intensity, adding another finger after a torturous minute of driving her to the edge.

“Come for me, Hermione,” he breathed into her clit, pulling it between his teeth and flicking his tongue over it rapidly. She cried out in response, back arching as she struggled to hold her legs up. Draco smirked, slamming his fingers into her without a care of how sore she might be after.

“Come for me, now,” he demanded and Hermione, to his delight, immediately let go. Her body quivered and her throat cracked from the loud cry she released, moaning his name among other profanities.

She was utterly sated, her eyes fluttering to stay open and her legs trembling as she let them fall to the mattress. Draco cleaned her up with his tongue, reveling in the little noises she was making as she sunk into the pillows. He was not done with her yet, though. With a yelp of surprise, Hermione was flipped onto her stomach. Her heart beat faster just by the way he could toss her around so easily. It made her excited, suddenly feeling less sated and hungrier for him.

“On your knees,” said Draco, sitting up on his own. “Put your hands against the headboard.”

Circe, I love when he tells me what to do-

A spank to her behind had her moving quicker and she heard Draco chuckle darkly from behind her, sending gooseflesh up her arms. She turned to look at him over her should as she situated herself on hands and knees. He looked pleased at the way she dipped her back, sticking her bum out. His hand came down to his erection, pumping it slowly as he examined her.

“Face front, Granger. Don’t move those pretty hands of yours.”

She obeyed, anticipating the moment they had been waiting for even more now that she could not see him. One of his hands skimmed past her hip, gripping it tightly before her knees were pushed farther apart. She felt the tip of him brush her folds, lining up to slide into her dripping heat. She gasped at the size of him as he stretched her, pushing in slowly until he was buried to the hilt. They both filled the room with their moans, both of Draco’s hands gripping her hips now.

He began moving at a steady place, air catching in Hermione’s lungs every time he pushed back into her. It felt so good. Too good.

“Fuck, Granger. You’re tight as hell around my cock.”

She definitely would not last if he kept talking like that.

“You…feel…incredible,” Hermione breathed between thrusts. Draco grunted in response and picked up the pace, their flesh slapping loudly together to mix with the squelch of Hermione’s arousal around him. He was fucking her hard now, Hermione moaning and whimpering with every thrust. She squeezed her pussy around him every time he pulled out, driving Draco mad with lust. He fucked her even harder for it.

Hermione felt a hand leave her hip, coming to tangle in her hair until Draco had grabbed most of it into a messy ponytail. He twisted it once in his fingers until he tugged on it roughly, Hermione’s chin pointing into the air to accommodate him. She loved the feeling of his control, fucking her hard, bruising her waist in his grip, the burn of her scalp as he held her hair. Draco was sure she was in pain with how hard he was pounding into her, until Hermione cried out,

“Harder, Malfoy!”

It was a challenge, and so unbelievably hot. Draco’s breathing picked up as he drove into her harder. Hermione’s elbows collapsed, her forehead nearly coming into contact with the headboard. He was continuously hitting that spot inside of her that was quickly building a fire within her belly. Her pussy was burning with the need for release and she almost dropped a hand from the headboard to her clit before stopping herself.

Draco pushed Hermione’s upper body into the mattress, her bum even higher in the air now. He did not say to drop her hands, so she left them on the headboard. The angle felt even better this way and Hermione cried out his name as he fucked her into the mattress. Her hands were slipping, her shoulders aching from holding them up at such an uncomfortable angle. Draco’s hand moved from her hair to her bum, squeezing it before delivering a hard smack. Hermione moaned and began meeting his thrusts, grinding back against him for more friction.

Draco smirked, sweat forming on his forehead now. She had liked that, he noted, spanking her on her other cheek. She moaned for him, arching her back even more to present her arse for him.

_Sweet Salazar she is perfect._

He slowed his thrusts as he recognized her orgasm building. He wanted to see her, memorize what her face looked like as he fucked her to the edge of no return. He flipped her over, pulling her legs over his shoulders before pushing back into her. He noticed that she returned her hands to the headboard with a grin. He had not told her to move them, after all. It seemed that Hermione Granger was a natural submissive.

He fucked her just as hard in this position, one that he knew was brushing over the sweet spot inside of her. He relished in the way her lips curled to form her cries, how her cheeks were flushed, and her honey colored eyes were a dark brown instead.

“You’re a filthy little minx, aren’t you Granger?” he spoke into her ear, leaning on his elbows as he practically bent her in half to penetrate her.

“Nnngh, yes,” Hermione gasped as he continued to slam into her sweet spot over and over again. “Draco…”

“I know,” he gasped, forcing away his own orgasm as he watched her moan his name. “Come, Hermione.”

She practically did so on command once more, intriguing Draco further as he fucked her through her orgasm. She cried out into his ear, trembling beneath him. Her pussy convulsed around him and it was the best thing he had ever felt. He did not want to finish yet, though, so he paused, his own orgasm fading away. She was still whimpering as she came down, her arms and legs shaking, and her bottom lip drawn between her teeth.

“You’re stunning when you come,” muttered Draco, pressing his lips to hers as her cheeks blushed even more.

“I want you to,” she said between kisses, urging Draco to start moving again with a thrust of her hips.

He sat up, lifting her legs off his shoulders and to the mattress. They both chuckled as her limbs shook uncontrollably. Draco began moving inside of her again, meeting her lips as she leaned up to kiss him. Hermione bent her legs at the knee, opening herself up to him willingly. He kept a slower pace this time, but it was hard enough to keep Hermione moaning, afraid she had yet another orgasm building up inside of her.

Hermione was beginning to squirm, her hips lifting to meet Draco’s thrusts as she moaned into the hot kiss they were sharing.

“What do you want?” said Draco, pulling away and looking down at her.

She looked up at him in surprise. “W-want to touch you,” whispered Hermione.

Draco smirked, nodding his approval and Hermione sighed as she dropped her hands from the headboard. Immediately, she brought them to his arms, positioned on either side of her head and flexing as he held up his weight. The skin of his arms was soft but stretched tightly over muscle and Hermione relished in the feel of them, wondering what it would be like to be held in them. She ran her hands over his broad shoulders and down his smooth chest before wrapping them around his back and trailing fingers to his hips, still moving quickly into her.

Draco was melting under her touch, his orgasm approaching even as he tried to hold it back. He collapsed most of his weight on her, burying his face in her neck as they moved together, a fast and steady rhythm that was immensely satisfying both of them. Hermione’s fingers had found their favorite place in his hair and she tugged on it as his thrusts grew more frantic.

One of Draco’s hands snuck beneath her and lifted her hips with a hand on her bum. It changed the angle immediately and Hermione’s moans increased in his ear.

“Can’t…much longer,” Draco groaned, thrusting with abandon as he took them to the edge.

Hermione began squealing, hips shaking erratically to meet his and Draco felt her pussy clench around his cock, a telling sign of her release.

“Fuck!” he groaned, feeling Hermione’s hands pull his face up to watch his release.

One look at her, face flushed, bottom lip between her teeth, and eyes fluttering as her release subsided had his balls exploding inside of her. Hermione’s mouth opened in awe, feeling him release warmly into her. His jaw had dropped, eyes squeezing shut as his hair fell, sweaty, onto his forehead. He was hugging her around her waist tightly, still holding her up against him as he stilled inside of her. Hermione was grinding her hips against his, drawing out both of their orgasms and not quite ready for him to pull out.

Draco untangled them slightly, grabbing both of her hands and pinning them beside her head playfully as he collapsed onto her, exhausted. Hermione relished in his warmth, wondering how long it would last. She nuzzled into the side of his head, kissing his shoulder and stretching her fingers against his. He smiled into her neck, groaning at how amazing he was feeling.

“Merlin’s beard, witch,” he growled, lifting his head to capture her lips. “Where have you been all of my life?”

Hermione smiled, trying to slow her heartbeat when Draco wrapped her hands in his, entwining their fingers.

“Where have you?” she countered with a raise of her brow.

“Right in front you, waiting,” said Draco, his tone serious.

Hermione’s brow disappeared into her hairline. “Waiting?”

Draco shook his head, chuckling. He untangled their sweaty bodies, pulling his softening arousal out of her. She was disappointed to watch him pull away from her, worried that their time was up.

She was frustrated with herself that she felt that way, but these three hours with Draco had been more exciting, stimulating and intoxicating than anything she had experienced in the last five years. This night had certainly turned into something completely unexpected. The man above her was completely unexpected. She had never once considered him to be this. He was charming and sarcastic and intelligent. She had known the latter, having competed with him at school and knowing of his good reputation at work, but his charm, kindness and humor was a surprise.

He had shown her all of that tonight, taking her by surprise the moment he had addressed her at the bar, and then again when he whisked her away to his library. And now, after doing something so incredible and perfectly titillating with him…she could not believe it. He was rough and gentle, perfect. The best she had ever had, without a doubt. Did he feel the same? Was he regretting this now or was he preparing to bid her goodnight? Her thoughts ran wild, overthinking as she always did with men. But Draco was not just any man, and she was not ready to leave him yet.

To her surprise and relief, he lay down on his side next to her instead of getting up, throwing an arm across her body.

“Why did you hate me at school?” asked Draco.

Hermione turned to him in surprise, their noses almost bumping.

“Because…” she trailed, clearing her throat. She had not expected the conversation to go in this direction. “Because you hated Harry and you hated me. You were a proper arse,” she said with a smile. “And I suppose I hated how you were the first to ever call me Mudblood, the first to make me realize that many of my classmates and most of the Wizarding world did not think I belonged there.”

Draco smiled, although it did not reach his eyes. Hermione took his hand is hers, holding it between their bodies and reassuring him that she considered that all in the past now.

“I didn’t hate you, Hermione,” said Draco, looking into her eyes so fiercely that Hermione wanted to look away. “I didn’t like you, sure, but I didn’t hate you…not like I hated Potter anyway. I hated the way you made me feel, how you made me question everything. I hated how you challenged my beliefs by outsmarting me in classes, by choosing the right side of the war, by making me so _attracted_ to someone that my father deemed lesser than me.”

“Attracted?” Hermione repeated in disbelief. “You’re telling me that my childhood nemesis, the Slytherin that all the girls drooled over, was attracted to me?”

Draco smirked. “Unequivocally. Remember fourth year, that huge debate we got into during Arithmancy?”

Hermione giggled, reminiscing, and nodded. “I was so angry that Vector paired us for that project.”

“I thought about that argument we had for days. We had gotten in each other’s faces and I couldn’t get the smell of your hair or the memory of how passionately angry you looked out of my head. Your lips had curled in a sneer just like mine and - your nose scrunches when you’re mad at someone, did you know that? - and your eyes were so bright when you spoke to me, practically lighting up in anger.”

Hermione was in shock by his confession, but she remembered the day like it was a recent memory. “I was pissed that you had solved the problem with a different method and theory than I did-”

“And got it correct,” Draco reminded to a roll of her eyes.

“So, all those years and all that tension was, on your end, because you were attracted to me?”

“Most of it, yes,” admitted Draco. “Don’t get me wrong, I still didn’t like you, but I couldn’t lie to myself anymore. I was attracted to you, plain and simple. Maybe things would have been different if I had admitted it.”

Hermione shook her head, running a finger down his chiseled jaw.

“We could think of ways things could have been different all night,” said Hermione, “but it doesn’t matter. We’re here now, and I happen to be very much attracted to the man lying next to me.”

“Well I’m glad to hear those feelings finally returned,” chuckled Draco.

Hermione smiled but her mind began to wander to recent years, when Draco would pass her in the Atrium or glimpse her in the Auror office with Harry and either nod politely or say nothing. She had grown to respect him quietly, from what she heard from Harry and Ron or Andromeda, as well as in the way he conducted himself. He was a very hard worker, and most of the times she saw him in the Atrium was leaving the Ministry on a late night, when they were one of few who stayed behind after hours to catch up on work. Two years ago, she had admitted she found him attractive when he and another Auror had worked in and out of the Magical Creatures department for two weeks, working on a case with one of her colleagues. Still, they had never spoken a word to each other, and since Hermione had ignored him in light of her realization, she never caught him watching her.

“We’ve worked at the Ministry together for three years, Draco. I stood up for you at your trial. We put the bad blood behind us,” said Hermione frowning. “Why didn’t you say anything then?”

He sighed, figuring the question would come. “I was too ashamed, too embarrassed to speak to you after the trial. You went back to Hogwarts after that and I didn’t see you until I started working at the Ministry. And you were with Weasley, and when you weren’t anymore, I was still ashamed, and I didn’t know where you stood with me, or even if you were or wanted to be seeing anyone.”

Hermione moved even closer to him, their lips brushing lightly as their naked chests pressed against one another.

“So why now? Why tonight?” smirked Hermione.

“Well, you looked delicious,” said Draco, returning her sly smile. “And I was tired of waiting and wondering.”

“Well it was worth the wait,” smiled Hermione, dazed. “And you can take pride in knowing you completely ravished me, tonight.”

Hermione pressed her lips against his, her tongue brushing his bottom lip. They opened for each other in a passionate exploration of tongues and Draco pulled that perfect lower lip of hers between his teeth. They continued to kiss fiercely as Draco pulled them under his sheets, wrapping his arms around her when they were beneath the warmth. He could feel the remanence of their arousal drip onto his thigh as she straddled his leg, leaning over him slightly to continue their kiss.

“Stay,” he muttered against her lips, pulling her close by her hips. He was growing hard again, and he was not prepared to see his witch leave so early.

Hermione sighed into his lips. “I’m not going anywhere.”

**Author's Note:**

> just a little something from the archives
> 
> thank you all for reading x


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